Chapter 2

“Boom—bang!”

The artificial rockery in the Crown Prince’s residence shook violently, loose stones tumbling down with a clatter. Several guards dressed in black coughed as they staggered out from the dust and debris, their faces streaked with dirt, waving their hands in exhaustion.

Crown Prince Cheng Yun sat at a distance on the dragon-carved chair that had been moved outside, casually rolling two iron pellets in his hand. He shook his head and said, “Our thunderfire pellets still lack power—they couldn’t even shake this fake rockery an inch... Qi Song, how are you?”

The lead guard coughed while struggling to salute respectfully. “Your servant is fine, cough cough, just a bit choked, cough cough...”

“This thing.” The prince held up the iron pellet in front of his eyes, facing the sunlight. “If this were used on the battlefield, I fear the Qi people would mock us mercilessly.”

He tossed the pellet casually, and Qi Song hurriedly reached out to catch it. Seeing it land safely in his palm, he relaxed slightly.

At that moment, Pang Qi suddenly approached from behind. “Your Highness, Minister Zhou requests an audience.”

“Zhou Xuan?” Cheng Yun raised an eyebrow. “What does he want?”

“I hear he has news about the Dream Demon.”

Before long, Zhou Xuan was brought into the study.

Cheng Yun had already moved from the courtyard’s dragon chair to a small couch in the study. His long hair hung loose, his clothes slightly disheveled, and his expression cold and indifferent. “You say you have news about the Dream Demon?”

“Exactly.” Knowing the prince was eager to vent his anger, Zhou Xuan did not hesitate. “Your Highness, do you remember the spy who had infiltrated the Prime Minister’s residence seven years ago?”

Cheng Yun pondered. “The Dream Demon is connected to that spy?”

“To be frank,” Zhou Xuan said, “the Dream Demon the prince painted is the illegitimate offspring left behind by that spy. Back then, that spy incited his younger brother to collude with the Qi people to assassinate Your Highness. Fortunately, my father was wise and uncovered the spy’s identity in time. My brother refused to see reason and insisted on protecting the spy. In anger, my father executed both my brother and the spy to uphold justice…”

At these words, Zhou Xuan seemed to recall his pitiful younger brother, his expression softening.

The prince listened silently.

Zhou Xuan steadied his emotions and continued, “The spy’s illegitimate child was only twelve at the time and was so frightened he couldn’t move. My father intended to execute him as well to end everything, but the Crown Princess, in her kindness, intervened and spared the boy’s life.”

“Mother?” Cheng Yun asked in surprise.

“The current Empress,” Zhou Xuan quickly affirmed. “Because this matter concerns Your Highness, the Empress personally came to the Prime Minister’s residence to investigate.”

Cheng Yun seemed to smile faintly. Zhou Xuan dared not meet his gaze and spoke with righteous indignation, “Who would have expected that after seven years, this illegitimate child would commit such heinous crimes again! Your Highness, I have reported this to my father. The entire Zhou clan is willing to deliver this child to you, so that you may rest peacefully every night without worry!”

He raised his hands high and bowed deeply, his sincerity unquestionable.

“Are you certain he is the Dream Demon?”

“I couldn’t be surer.” Zhou Xuan stood upright, eagerly pulling a painting from his sleeve. “This was painted during my father’s birthday celebration years ago. I beg Your Highness to take a look.”

Cheng Yun raised his hand, and Pang Qi immediately stepped forward to assist him down from the couch.

Zhou Xuan unrolled the scroll and pointed to a child seated in the corner. “This is the illegitimate child’s appearance seven years ago.”

Cheng Yun stepped closer, hands behind his back.

The painting was indeed from that birthday celebration seven years prior. Zhou Cangzhu stood at the table, hands clasped respectfully. Opposite him stood a pale, chubby eunuch—the late emperor’s messenger. This scene clearly recorded the imperial banquet granted by the late emperor.

The Prime Minister’s wife, kind and gentle, sat surrounded by their descendants. The boys played by a nearby pillar, some kicking a ball; the girls whispered and giggled, covering their mouths sweetly. Only one child sat alone at the far end of the table, quietly and upright. In the painting, his gaze seemed fixed intently beyond the frame, allowing the artist to capture his features clearly.

Pang Qi fetched a portrait from the desk, a frontal drawing done by the prince himself. Comparing it with the child in the birthday painting, his eyes widened. “Your Highness…”

The resemblance was uncanny.

Though still youthful, when placed alongside the prince’s own drawing, any discerning eye would immediately recognize the similarity.

Beside him, Zhou Xuan confirmed with certainty, “The illegitimate child’s current appearance matches exactly what Your Highness painted—anyone who sees will know at once.”

Cheng Yun finally showed interest. “So, have you brought this demon here?”

Zhou Xuan looked ashamed. “He was kept imprisoned in the Prime Minister’s residence and was usually quiet and unnoticed. But his cunning runs deep. Three years ago, he escaped when the opportunity arose.”

Seeing the prince’s displeased expression, Zhou Xuan quickly added, “But every October, he goes to Xiaofang Mountain outside Shengjing City to pay respects to his parents! If Your Highness waits patiently, he will surely be caught!”

“Waiting for a rabbit by a tree.” Cheng Yun sneered. “The wanted posters have already been sent to all the major provinces. If he’s still wandering the world, he must know he’s wanted. Do you think he would willingly throw himself into the trap?”

Zhou Xuan smiled confidently. “I have a method to make him do just that.”

October, Xiaofang Mountain.

A winding path about three hundred feet long led up from the mountain’s base, surrounded by forest with a small raised grave mound visible.

Before the grave stood a stone tablet—not a traditional stele, but an irregularly curved stone about a foot and a half wide and two feet tall. The stone looked crude, as if picked up by chance and inscribed with a few lines, barely serving as a grave marker.

The tombstone had weathered some years, its lower half sunk into the earth. Hardy wild grasses sprouted around its cracks, yellowing in the early winter season.

Cheng Yun stood hidden among the bushes behind some shrubs, with royal guards carefully observing ahead.

After some time, a figure appeared on the winding official road at the mountain’s foot. Wearing a gray-and-white long robe and a bamboo hat, riding a chestnut horse at a swift pace.

Zhou Xuan immediately perked up. “It must be him! His face was always hidden tightly as a child—afraid of causing trouble.”

Cheng Yun smiled broadly. “Your method does work.”

Zhou Xuan chuckled. “After all, these are his own parents. When they were discarded in the wilderness all those years ago, it was he himself who buried them here. If rumors spread that their graves on Xiaofang Mountain were to be disturbed, he would naturally be anxious.”

Cheng Yun cast him a longer glance, then resumed his smile as he watched the man with the bamboo hat.

The horse soon stopped at the foot of the mountain. The man stood beneath a banyan tree shedding its last leaves, looking up at the mountain.

Cheng Yun stared at the figure, recalling the face from his dream.

The man slowly began to climb the mountain path. Cheng Yun observed his posture closely.

His head seemed to tilt forward slightly, his gait somewhat pigeon-toed. His legs looked weak and unsteady. His build resembled the figure from the dream somewhat. The hand holding the incense was fairly fair-skinned, but nowhere near the creamy whiteness of the dream’s ethereal figure. Judging by his stature, the demon appeared utterly ordinary—hardly matching the celestial image Cheng Yun had envisioned.

His dream must have been flawed, transforming such an ordinary man into something otherworldly.

Cheng Yun’s interest waned. He turned and sat in the shade on a wide chair brought along. A young attendant promptly poured him a cup of tea, which he took leisurely. “Don’t waste time. Send a few men to bring him here.”

Judging by his legs, he didn’t seem capable of fighting. Cheng Yun couldn’t help but wonder what courage let him come here.

If it were him, once dead, he’d be dead. If the grave were destroyed, so be it. He would never put himself in danger unnecessarily.

As for vengeance for a ruined grave, that could wait for another day.

He was increasingly convinced his dream had erred.

No fool who loses reason over personal feelings, even risking his life, was meant to be his lifelong companion.

Zhou Xuan, standing beside him, whispered cautiously, “This demon is temperamental, Your Highness. Be careful.”

The prince’s guards pounced like wolves, quickly seizing the man like a frightened chick. The man trembled violently, knees shaking, brought before Cheng Yun. Before a reprimand could be uttered, he collapsed, kneeling at the prince’s feet.

Cheng Yun’s doubt lingered—something felt off. Yet recalling the demon’s tearful, fragile image from his dream, his hesitation gave way to satisfaction.

This was the demon who tormented him day and night, now as frightened as if facing death itself. Cheng Yun pondered how best to deal with this creature.

Kill him outright? That would be a waste. After all the humiliation he’d suffered, he intended to reclaim every last bit of dignity.

He glanced at Qi Song. The latter immediately reached out and removed the bamboo hat from the man’s head.

The man immediately covered his face, trembling harder.

Two guards stepped forward, each grabbing an arm. Cheng Yun smiled and bent down, but his expression suddenly darkened.

Zhou Xuan gasped, pointing at the man with outrage before Cheng Yun spoke. “Who are you?!”

The man shrank his head, trembling in fear. “I—I am a scholar from the town ahead. Someone gave me ten taels of silver to dress like him and come here to burn paper money for his parents... I thought it was just burning paper, Your Highness! I really don’t know anything—I’m only here for the money. I didn’t expect that bastard to cause such a big mess! Please, Your Highness, spare me! Spare me…”

Cheng Yun closed his eyes briefly. Zhou Xuan’s face turned pale. The man stood stiffly, never imagining he’d been used as a pawn by that demon.

“Y-Your Highness…”

The man glanced at the dark dragon embroidery on Cheng Yun’s robes, then at the dragon pattern on his boots. Suddenly, his head lolled sideways, and he fainted.

Cheng Yun composed his breathing and opened his eyes again calmly. “Wake him.”

A bowl of water was splashed on the man’s face. Upon waking, he began to sob. “Your Highness, please spare me! I really don’t know anything! I swear I don’t!”

“I may spare your life.” Cheng Yun reassured him, “Answer my questions truthfully.”

“Yes, yes, I will speak everything I know!”

Without another word, Cheng Yun led everyone away from Xiaofang Mountain. The cavalry rode toward the town of Qili ahead.

“That man met me in the town. I’m certain he lives in the Qili Inn there. His build... similar to mine. His hair was very long, longer than most—about this length... When he spoke, his tone was cold, unreadable. He always carried a small grayish bundle, wore sandalwood beads on both wrists, and, yes—he had a string of walnuts at his waist, four in all!!!”